


Provocation

by eyeus



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-13
Updated: 2011-12-13
Packaged: 2017-11-17 09:27:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeus/pseuds/eyeus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yusuf teaches the ‘Mentor da Firenze’ a lesson in discretion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Provocation

**Author's Note:**

> Mini-fill for this prompt on the kinkmeme.

 

***

 

Ezio wishes Yusuf had never been within earshot of Prince Suleiman after the banquet, when the prince made his first attempt at Italian.

“ _Mio bel minestrello_!” Suleiman had named him, eager to please the assassin masquerading as a bard to save his life. 

It’s the bastardized phrase he’s heard repeated and snickered in small groups of Ottoman assassins, no doubt proliferated by Yusuf during numerous _nargile_ sessions. Following the prince’s admission of not speaking to strangers (though more likely a lure to make Ezio share his own name), the Ottoman master assassin has taken to incessant whispers of “Stranger danger!” whenever the young prince comes near—

“ _Sayin_ Auditore!”

The sound of his name startles him out of his thoughts, and a hard landing followed by the approach of nearly silent footfalls makes him turn quickly to determine the source. 

“Yusuf. What are you doing here?” To find his fellow assassin out here at the harbour is a surprise; Ezio half expects him to be defending an Assassin den, or relaxing at one such den and making jokes at his expense. 

Were it not for the bold, open smile that surfaces instantly, Yusuf would look almost sheepish. “Word around the city is that you’re leaving us,” he grins, clasping Ezio’s forearm in an easy gesture of camaraderie. 

Ezio supposes his dismay at the plan to leave for Cappadocia being public knowledge must show on his face, because Yusuf slaps him on the back and steers him into the shade, away from the dust and spiced air of Costantinopoli’s sun-baked streets. “You still have much to learn, Mentor da Firenze. Not only assassins keep their eyes and ears open at all times.”

Those assassin’s sly remarks are becoming tiresome, and though he knows Yusuf means well, Ezio cannot resist making a jibe. “Perhaps some assassins are better off keeping their _mouths_ closed at all times.”

It is worth it, if only for a moment, to see the look of surprise cut across Yusuf’s features. Then even _that_ disappears, as the man breaks into another wide grin and laughs, that same grating _hyuh hyuh_ sound he makes when ribbing Ezio about bomb usage or imitating a Sultan’s dying cough. 

“Truer words have never been spoken,” Yusuf nods, as sagely as he can under the circumstances. “Though I wonder,” he adds pointedly, leaning in close enough that Ezio can feel the heat of his breath and the brush of lips against his own mouth, “if you mean that for me, or _you_?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> * _Mio bel minestrello_ – “my handsome minstrel”  
>  * _nargile_ – Turkish water pipe for smoking  
>  * _Sayin_ – Mister


End file.
